


Happy Birthday Baby.

by lizibabes



Series: Angst Bingo [24]
Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Tommy Ratliff (Musician)
Genre: AU, Aphrodisiacs, Drugs, M/M, Mental Health Issues, PTSD, Past Violence, Rent Boy, Slavery, Swearing, nervous breakdown, past death, sex., use of aphrodisiac drugs, war references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-26
Updated: 2012-03-26
Packaged: 2017-11-02 13:55:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/369726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizibabes/pseuds/lizibabes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill for the angst bingo prompts isolation, post traumatic stress disorder, wild card/birthday, aphrodisiacs and strippers. Fill for Glam bingo prompt AU: rent boys. Fill for the dark bingo prompt nervous breakdown and fill for the lover100 prompt slave. After the Great war Tommy Joe Ratliff had a nervous breakdown. Suffering from PTSD Tommy has chosen to live in isolation. When a well meaning friend him sends a rent boy/stripper for his birthday Tommy doesn't know what to make of the man, high on an aphrodisiac drug Adam seems willing, but is he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Birthday Baby.

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: I_glitterz  
> Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the characters in this story and as far as I’m aware this never happened.  
> Set in an AU futuristic world, post world war, but will only reference the outside world as they do not leave Tommy's home in the fic. Glam nation never happened.

He chooses to live in isolation; has ever since the war ended. They say he had a nervous breakdown, that he's just suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder, but there is no 'just'; the war changed him and he's not the same man as he was before. He was never overly social, liked his own company, but after his nervous breakdown, he couldn't really stand to be around people anymore. He has dreams, flash backs, sees the faces of the men he had to kill to keep his family safe. His family that he has now isolated himself from, because they remind him of what he did. So he lives in his cabin in the woods, isolated from the world. But the internet makes it easy, anything he wants or needs he orders on line, pays and has it sent to his home. Most places are good about leaving stuff outside for him, he doesn't like talking to strangers.

　

Another thing he doesn't like is the label of PTSD, but he doesn't argue because it means he gets paid money from the government, has kept him going since his nervous breakdown. He still works, writing music from home for other artists, never leaving his isolation to do it. He works from home, sends songs by email and the money comes to him. Between his job and the money for his PTSD,he's doing fine, earning enough for his little cabin and enough to pay all his bills. He sees stories about himself on the internet, reclused song writer. Some call him a genius, others mad. Tommy doesn't know which is right, for all he knows, both opinions could be right. After all there is a fine line between genius and insanity. 

　

He still calls and emails his friends, those who survived the war. He never invites them to his cabin and he knows they have long given up on asking him to visit them. He's not left his home since he moved it. The isolation is better for him. He feels like he can breathe here. After his breakdown, living in an apartment surrounded by people had made him feel like he couldn't breathe, like a weight was dragging him down. He gets lonely sometimes, but he knows he's better off staying here. If he does have post-traumatic stress disorder, he doesn't think he should be around his family. They make him have flash backs and he doesn't know enough about his condition to be sure he won't hurt them accidentally when he flashes back to being in the war. They all survived the war, but so many people didn't. He's lucky to be alive and lucky he knows his family are safe. His Mom asks him to come home sometimes, roughly once a month, every month since he moved into isolation, since his nervous breakdown.

　

When the phone rings, it makes him jump, even though it’s been ringing all day. Loud noises make him jumpy; they remind him of bombs and he has to squeeze his eyes shut and take a deep breath before he reaches out to get the phone.

　

"Happy Birthday." Mike says happily, but he doesn't yell. Mike figured out fast that Tommy didn't like being yelled at over anything, not since his breakdown.

　

"Mike, hi, thanks man." Tommy smiles. He still likes talking to people, but only when he doesn't have to be around them. Crowds are way too much for him to handle and he's not that great with face to face ever since he had the breakdown, but he's getting better than he had been. Back when they diagnosed him with PTSD, he'd been ignoring his phone, unable to talk, not even with people he's never been lost with words around them before.

　

"Don't thank me yet." Mike laughs.

　

"What did you do?" Tommy groans.

　

"I got you something, well someone birthday boy." Mike says happily.

　

"You hired me a hooker?" Tommy yelps, looking around the room, like a hooker might suddenly appear and end his self-imposed isolation, but the room is as empty as it ever was. Maybe he should have taken the PTSD counseling they offered him, because he doesn't think he would have done that before the Great war.

　

"Well, technically he's a stripper, just his show has a happy ending. He's a rent boy, high class, he's not some guy I picked up off the corner. You've been alone with nothing but your own hand for company for nine months; you need to get laid birthday boy. It might turn out to be just the stress relief you need." Mike says firmly and he's not even joking about hiring a stripper/rent boy for Tommy's birthday.

　

"You bought me a rent boy?" Tommy says, still not believing that Mike would do that, although if he was ever asked who the most likely person to bring strippers to a birthday party, he'd say Mike and it seems, that hasn't changed since he went into isolation. He doesn't know how a stripper will help him with his PTSD or the nervous breakdown he suffered. Mike's right, he hasn't had sex since he moved into the cabin. But he's not really thought about it that much; it's only nine months. He's gone longer without getting off than that, which Mike knows, he knows almost everything there is to know about Tommy.

　

"Yes, well rented you one for the night anyway. He'll turn up, shake his ass and rock your world. Give you a birthday to remember, even if we don't get to party." Mike says and Tommy can picture him shrugging as he says it. 

　

"Most rent boys these days are sex slaves, Mike." After the war ended, all those seen to be on the other side were punished, many of them being forced into slavery. Sex slaves, domestic slaves, there were slaves for everything. It has never sat well with Tommy and he fought in the war. But this man/slave/stripper/rent boy, he won't be someone who was fighting. The fighters from each state had not been everyone, there were more people who weren’t involved in the war. But anyone with even a remote link to someone who had been involved in the war, on the losing side, were taken as slaves.

　

"I'm not going to lie to you, TJ, he's a sex slave but he volunteered, took a friend’s place. He sends money to his family, to help them get back on their feet. He's willing, I made sure. I knew you wouldn't want someone who was just doing it because they’re a slave and have to." Mike says in a rush.

　

"You know me well enough to know I wouldn't fuck an unwilling slave, but you think I’ll fuck a stripper?" Tommy asks.

　

"Fuck him, get fucked, I don't care. It's your birthday and you shouldn't be alone. I get that the PTSD makes it hard for you to be around people and maybe I should have noticed something before you had the nervous breakdown. I knew something was wrong and I didn't say anything. Well I'm saying something now and you need to get past isolating yourself." Mike rants and Tommy has a feeling that Mike's been holding that in a long time.

　

"You think a stripper will reconnect me to the world?" Tommy asks skeptically. He doesn't want to live in isolation his whole life, he wants to get past his nervous breakdown, go back to being the him he was before he started suffering with PTSD. He wants his life back, his family. The war took enough from him, he wants to change back, but he doesn't think a stripper will be the one to get him there.

　

"They provided aphrodisiacs, to help give you a push. I think you should use them and the stripper, you’re so closed off, Tommy, been away too long. I think just getting lost in the pleasure, instead of always needing to be in control will be good for you and it's not like you’re going to go out and hook up on your own time." Mike sighs.

　

It's true, ever since the war he's had trouble giving up control, he's still not sure about using an aphrodisiac drug with a rent boy, but Mike has a point. He needs to let go and maybe today is the day to end his isolation and let someone in his home. A sex slave will never hurt him, they don't get paid to hurt someone unless they ask for it. Tommy won't ask the slave to hurt him, so he'll get a strip show with a happy ending, maybe it will do him some good. And if fear or some other effect of his PTSD makes things awkward, it's not like he'll have to see the stripper Mike hired for his birthday ever again.

　

"Okay, I'll try it. I'll take the aphrodisiac drug and I'll sleep with the stripper. But you have to promise that they aren't a slave being forced." Tommy says softly.

　

"I promise, he's a sex slave, a rent boy, but he's high class, from an agency. He's not some down on his luck guy on a corner selling himself. He's a man who likes to have sex and likes to get paid for it, the fact he is a slave has nothing to do with that." Mike says firmly.

　

"Alright, thank you for the birthday present, when is he arriving?" Tommy asks.

　

"In like a half hour, so if your place is a mess then you had better clean it up, living alone isn't any reason to turn into a slob." Mike laughs and Tommy laughs back, looking around the perfectly neat room. His PTSD and insomnia keep him up at night and there's not much to do late at night, not when you’re isolated from the world, so he often finds himself cleaning in the middle of the night. He's not lived somewhere this tidy since he lived at home and his Mom was still cleaning up after his lazy ass.

　

Mike stays on the phone for a few more moments and then he leaves Tommy to wait for the stripper to arrive. Alone and obsessing, he considers changing out of his PJ's but then he remembers this isn't a date, he won't be leaving the house, no one will be judging him. It'll just be him and the rent boy, someone paid to make him feel better about himself, not worse.

　

He sits, leg jiggling, a nervous habit that started after the breakdown. He used to be able to sit still for hours, but now he feels like he needs to be constantly moving. It puts him on edge to just sit still and wait for things. He needs to be in control of everything around him. So maybe Mike was a little right and he does need to learn how to let go. He didn't used to be like this, didn't need to be in control all the time, of everything. Maybe a rent boy will help him loosen up, it's worth a shot. He wants to get back to the man he was, one who never spent a birthday alone.

　

The knock to his door startles him when it comes, nearly at the exact time Mike said the rent boy would be here. Tommy stands up, rubbing his hands on his sweat pants to get rid of the clammy sweat, before he goes to the door. He has to take a deep breath, trying to relax himself, trying to pretend that he is the man he was before the war. A man who didn't feel the need to isolate himself from the world, from the people who care about him. He doesn't think he's even fooling himself, but he makes himself open the door anyway, curious to see what the willing slave will look like.

　

He's tall and broad, midnight black hair and eyes that sparkle. Plump lips, long legs covered in tight denim and he wonders how he'll strip out of those. He's handsome and he looks like he would be strong enough to pick Tommy up and fuck him against one of the cabin walls. Tommy's mouth dries out at the mental image and he thinks maybe he could do this without the aid of an aphrodisiac, his body is willing. But he doesn't trust his mind to do as he wishes, if he's going to let go of control he'll need to take the aphrodisiac drug. If he'd met this man before the war, in a club or bar, Tommy would have gone home with him in a heartbeat.

　

"My name’s Adam, I'm here for the birthday boy, is that you? I hope it is." The man, Adam, purrs and it makes Tommy's heart leap, he thinks Mike was right, Adam might not be a slave, but he doesn't seem to hate his job at all. He doesn't want to imagine how Mike researched to find Tommy a rent boy who was selling himself by choice. Couldn't have been much fun for Mike; male strippers weren't exactly his kind of thing.

　

"It's my birthday." Tommy nods, flustered already and all this gorgeous man has done is stand there. 

　

"Well, happy birthday, baby, going to let me in so I can make it a memorable one?" Adam asks and Tommy realizes he's frozen right in the door way. He takes a clumsy step back and before he manages another, Adam steps forward, walking through the small gap Tommy made, which means Adam is close as he walks through the gap, his chest almost brushing Tommy's and Tommy would swear he can feel the heat coming off of Adam's body as he walks past. Tommy shuts the door and it feels strange, he's so used to being in isolation that it seems weird to be letting someone else in his space. Maybe a stripper can help him make progress, help him learn to live a life not ruled by his PTSD. 

　

"Want to sit so I can give you a dance or I could dance for you in your bedroom." Adam says, voice silky smooth as he walks toward Tommy, till they’re face to face, sharing the same air and Tommy's mind draws a blank. He doesn't know what to do. Sit on his couch while Adam strips for him or head straight for the bedroom so that Adam can show him if everything they say about sex slaves is true, that they are the best when it comes to sex and Mike had said Adam wasn't just any rent boy, he's a higher class of hooker and Tommy thinks that Adam will definitely make this a memorable birthday, no matter what he does.

　

"I'm sorry, I'm kind of nervous. I've never had a stripper in my house." Tommy admits shyly, leaving out the fact that since he moved in here, no one but him has walked past the threshold. 

　

"Want something to help you relax, baby? Just a little aphrodisiac?" Adam asks gently, instead of laughing at his nervousness. When he was having his breakdown, he'd always been convinced that people around him would laugh at him if he showed weakness. So paranoid that he'd isolated himself from everyone, including the people who love him, all because he couldn't handle his PTSD, rarely even admits to having it. But he let someone into his home and that's a start, he can fix himself, it's not too late, he's not broken beyond repair. 

　

"Yes, please." Tommy nods and Adam smiles at him, all sweet and gorgeous and it makes Tommy want to kiss him. Adam gently brushes Tommy's bangs off of his face, like he's trying to get a proper look at Tommy's face.

　

"You’re a cute little thing. I'm going to take such good care of you." Adam says, kissing him chastely on the lips before drawing back. Tommy can't help but stare at Adam's mouth; it's been so long since he felt a warm mouth on his. A soft press of lips shouldn't mean much, but the light kiss makes him shiver.

　

Adam has a bag with him, and he sets it down on the floor, kneeling to unzip it which puts his face close to Tommy's dick and he has to bite back a moan. He'd been to strip clubs before the war, but the strippers had never looked like Adam. Most of them too muscular for Tommy's taste, that and pretty boys. He is a pretty boy, he doesn't want to ogle men who look like him. Adam's not doing anything yet and he already has Tommy feeling like a mess. He straightens up, a little baggy in his hands, bright red, but tiny pills in the plastic. Adam takes one out, places it on the tip of his tongue, and he reaches for Tommy, pulls him close and kisses him again, this time it's an open mouth kissed and Adam pushes the aphrodisiac pill into Tommy's mouth. He knows it's a risk to take a drug given to him by a stranger, but he knows Mike would have checked out the agency Adam worked for as a sex slave/stripper/rent boy, whatever his job is. He's good at it, really good at it, kissing Tommy till he's breathless. His knees feel weak and he's clinging to the front of Adam's chest to keep himself on his feet.

　

"The aphrodisiac will work quickly, can you feel it yet?" Adam asks, his hand at the base of Tommy's back has slid just under the hem of Tommy's T-shirt and his thumb is stroking circles into the small of Tommy's back. It feels nice, makes his body buzz. He's turned on, relaxed, but he doesn't know if that is from Adam's kisses, his touch, or the aphrodisiac drug he just took.

　

"I don't know." Tommy admits and Adam just smiles softly. He doesn't look like a slave who is being made to do this and it could be an act, but Tommy had learned to read people back during the war, had to if he wanted to avoid being betrayed or killed. And Adam's eyes, the look in them, he doesn't think that's an act. Adam's a rent boy and a willing slave.

　

"Why don't you sit while I strip for you, Tommy baby, and then we can take this to the bedroom." Adam says softly, encouraging Tommy to go and sit on his couch, so he does. Sitting, he watches Adam get out an I-pod and an I-pod dock. Soon, music is filling the room, the song doesn't have any words, just a slow pulsating beat that makes Tommy think of sex, but then he guesses that's the point. He's only seen strippers dancing to trashy, cheesy music; this couldn't be more different than that. Adam starts moving in time with the beat, hips rolling, hands stroking over his chest slowly and Tommy is captivated before Adam even opens one button. He can't take his eyes off of Adam as the other man slowly strips, his movements sensual. Tommy doesn't know if the aphrodisiac is helping him at all, but lust is racing through his body. 

　

Adam's shirt flutters to the floor after long minutes and he slides his hand down over his naked torso, palming himself through his jeans and Tommy can't hold in a moan. Adam's hard in his jeans and Tommy wants to get his hands all over Adam. Right now he's glad for the isolation of his home because it means no one will complain if he moans his head off when Adam touches him. Tommy has a feeling that it'll be hard to stay quiet when he's in bed with Adam. 

　

He watches with rapt attention as Adam unbuttons and unzips his jeans, giving Tommy a peak at the black boxers underneath. Adam makes taking his boots and jeans off not only look effortless, but somehow sexy as well and once he's only in his boxers, he prowls toward Tommy, hips still moving to the beat of the music, slow and sensual and the aphrodisiac must be working because Tommy doesn't feel nervous being around a person for the first time in a very long time. The aphrodisiac is letting him focus on the lust he's feeling instead of the anxiety he normally feels around other people. Adam isn't Mike, he's not a voice on the end of a phone, but he still feels comfortable. Adam straddles Tommy's legs, lowering himself down into Tommy's lap, hips still keeping the beat.

　

"I thought I'd let the birthday boy unwrap the rest of his present. Bedroom?" Adam asks, his mouth just millimeters away from Tommy's lips and Tommy can't help leaning forward just a little, closing the gap and kissing Adam. It's not a date and he thinks maybe he's done something wrong, but then Adam makes a pleased noise and starts kissing Tommy back.

　

When Adam stands, he brings Tommy up with him, manhandling Tommy with ease. When Mike had told him about his present, a stripper he could sleep with, Tommy hadn't known which way he wanted things to go. He'd been leaning toward fucking the rent boy, topping him, most sex slaves would willingly bottom. But now that he has Adam here, now that he’s touched and kissed Adam, well he wants to get fucked, wants Adam to pin him down and fuck him. He doesn't know if he'd be willing to give up control like that without the aphrodisiac in his system, he likes to think he would. One night won't make him fully recovered from his breakdown, nobout of aphrodisiac will cure his PTSD, but he can enjoy his birthday, enjoy Adam and he thinks that's a good enough start. He is going to have to think of something awesome for Mike's birthday, is going to have to try and give the gift to him in person, because hiring him a rent boy for the night might have been one of the best ideas Mike ever had.

　

"Going to unwrap me?" Adam asks. 

　

Tommy swallows, mouth dry, so instead of saying anything, he just nods. Adam's standing close, so all he has to do is reach out, push and pull at material until the boxers drop down Adam's legs and then Adam's stepping out of them, unashamed and beautiful. Tommy wishes he could have that confidence. Adam knows he's desirable, knows he's good at this and Tommy thinks he's going to be in for one hell of a birthday.

　

"Can I undress you?" Adam asks, pressing his hand flat against Tommy's chest, that point of contact warmer than the rest of Tommy's body.

　

"Yeah, um, yeah, you can." He's still a little nervous. It's been a long time since he let himself be this vulnerable with anyone. Aphrodisiacs can't change the fact that he hasn't got laid since long before his nervous breakdown, but he thinks maybe they’re the reason his fear is muted. He lifts his arms, letting Adam strip him out of his T-shirt. He wants them both in bed, naked, yelling as loud as they want because in total isolation, no one can hear you scream. He keeps glancing down at Adam's cock; he's big and Tommy can imagine himself on his knees, learning every inch with his mouth and tongue. But not right now, they have all night, so he'll probably get a chance later, but right now all he wants is Adam inside of him, making him feel overwhelmed but in the best possible way.

　

Adam is so gentle when he strips Tommy of his sleep pants and socks, his hands on Tommy so gentle you'd think he was handling glass, not a flesh and blood man. He thought it might be different, awkward to go to bed with a man who is paid to be here, but it's not. It feels natural, real. When Adam lays him down on the bed, his shoulders spreading Tommy's legs wide, Tommy can't remember the last time he felt like this. Like a man, unafraid and just human. It's natural to have fears and doubts, he knows that, but they shouldn't control your life up until the point that you have to isolate yourself. Adam's mouth on his cock distract his thoughts, but nothing matters when Adam's mouth is on him.

　

When they had changed rooms, Adam had brought his bag with him and he pulls off Tommy for a second and gets lube and a condom out, setting them on the bed and Tommy's glad, because he has lube, but he doesn't have condoms. He hasn't needed them, the way he's been alone here. Adam stops just sort of wrapping his lips around Tommy's cock, looking up the length of his body till they make eye contact. 

　

"How do you want this, birthday boy? We can do this any way you want, Tommy." Adam offers. His breath puffing out over Tommy's cock is pure torture. 

　

"I want you to fuck me." Tommy says, feeling bold for the first time since he handed his weapon back in after the war ended; empty gun, blood stained knife and a room full of people telling him it would get easier to carry the burden of the lives he had to take someday. They had lied; the burden hasn't gotten any lighter over time.

　

"I was hoping you'd say that." Adam says with a wicked smile and he doesn't think he's wrong to think Adam really wants to fuck him. As far as he is aware, Adam hasn't really taken any of the aphrodisiac, he's just given it to Tommy. Adam's lips wrap around the head of his cock, sucking hard as his tongue flicks out over the head and then he's sinking down, taking all of Tommy easily, but then as a sex slave, he's had plenty of practice, but it doesn't make it any less hot. He doesn't hear Adam open up the lube, too wrapped up in feeling so good after so long. But he feels it slick on Adam's fingers as they circle his hole while Adam keeps on blowing him. Tommy moans loudly as the first finger pushes inside of him, crooking just right to have all of Tommy's nerves lighting up. As he predicted, he's moaning his head off before long, babbling nonsense, mixed with Adam's name as Adam keeps sucking him, adding finger after finger till he's taking four and begging for Adam's cock. He knows he could order Adam to do as he says, but he's given Adam control and he doesn't want to take it back, not yet.

　

Adam pulls off his cock, moving up Tommy's body, his fingers still pumping in and out of Tommy and then they’re kissing. Tommy doesn't know which one of them started it, just that they’re kissing, warm and wet and he can taste himself on Adam's tongue and it only makes him moan louder. Adam picks up the condom, opens the packet and rolls it over his cock and Tommy bites his lower lip in anticipation. That is going to be inside of him, Adam is going to be inside of him.

　

"Is this good for you, on your back like this?" Adam asks, his body between Tommy's legs, spreading them wide and he doesn't want to move, wants to be able to look at Adam, kiss him while they fuck.

　

"Yeah, this is good, I want to see you." Tommy admits, although he's not sure that is something he should tell the rent boy Mike got him for his birthday. 

　

Adam strokes his cheek gently, pushing back the bangs Tommy uses to hide behind. He kisses Tommy softly and it feels like a lovers kiss. Tommy has a feeling he needs to be careful here, his life is complicated enough without adding falling in love with a stripper to the mix. Adam keeps kissing him as he lines up his cock and starts to push his way into Tommy's body. It's been a very long time, but Adam prepped him well. The gasp that falls from his lips is from pleasure not pain. He clutches at Adam's body, trying to encourage him to give Tommy more, thrust harder, faster and Adam gives him everything he wants, but without it ever getting too rough. It makes Tommy feel special, taken care of and he's been taking care of himself for a long time now, so it's surprisingly nice to hand over the reins to someone else. Maybe he shouldn't, maybe it makes him a fool, but he trusts Adam.

　

"Fuck, Fucking hell." Tommy groans as Adam hits his prostate with every thrust. Pleasure is rolling over him in waves, making his hips jerk as his body shakes, so close to the edge that he's whimpering and once again glad he lives in isolation right now. If he was in his old apartment, two other guys would be hearing him beg and plead and moan for Adam's cock. He's not sure if he'd care enough to stop even if there were people around to hear them. He thinks the house could fall down around them and he wouldn't care right now. 

　

Adam's hand wrapping around his cock comes from nowhere and it's all it takes, one jack of Adam's big hand and he's coming all over Adam's hand as Adam's hips snap hard into his, clearly close as well. Adam keeps thrusting, milking every drop of pleasure that can come from Tommy's orgasm, mouth on his neck, whispering filthy and sweet things between open mouth kisses. 

　

"You look so good when you come, so good, baby. You take my cock so well, Tommy, it's beautiful." Adam pants and then he chokes out Tommy's name, voice ragged, shot to hell as he comes.

　

Adam deals with all the practical things, gets rid of the condom, cleans them both up, puts away the lube and gets them under the cover, promising he'll be ready for round two whenever Tommy wants it. Only Tommy doesn't get to see round two, sprawled all over Adam, stealing the other man's heat. The only thing he sees for the rest of the night is the inside of his eyelids. 

　

He wakes up alone. Adam is gone, his bag and clothes are gone and Tommy doesn't know what to think till he sees a piece of paper, torn off the notebook that had been out on his desk the night before. The note has been placed on the kitchen table and he's quick to pick it up, wondering what it'll say.

　

I had to leave, my day job called. But tell your friend he still owes you a birthday present. I'm not charging for last night, I can't. Sleeping with you didn't feel like a job and I can't treat it like one. Consider the dance and the night together my present to you, baby, I hope I get to see you again, before your next birthday.

　

Maybe he wasn't a fool to trust Adam after all. He wasn't reading into anything that wasn't there. He can still read people, his breakdown, the PTSD, they haven't taken that away from him. He's thought maybe they would. When he calls Mike, his best friend thinks Tommy is calling to either thank him or yell at him about getting him a rent boy as a present; he doesn't get either. He gets Tommy telling him to come visit and bring him a birthday present, because Adam isn't charging. He wasn't a slave, a stripper or a rent boy last night, he was just a man. 

　

Mike doesn't ask why the sudden change, why Tommy is breaking his self-imposed isolation, he just asks when Tommy wants him to get there. It feels good to tell Mike to come whenever he wants and who would have thought that one night with a stranger would be what it took to inspire him to start getting better. It's a long road to recovery, but at least he's finally found his way to the road.

　

 

+++++++++++++++

 

　

Almost one year later

 

He's sat at a bar with Mike close to his side, he's still not wild about crowds, but he's not living in isolation anymore. And this year he's actually letting his friends take him out for a drink in the bar and so far he's made it through the whole night without slipping once. There have been moments when he wanted to run away and hide, find somewhere quiet and hide, but he doesn't, he stays with Mike and the others, toasting his birthday with them for the first time in years.

　

The bar they’re in has live music and one band has just left, another is setting up and Tommy's heart beat stops when the singer turns around; it's Adam. Tommy hadn't known that Adam's other job was singing. Maybe that's his only job now, a crowd of women and men near the stage seem to be there just to see Adam and his band. It looks like he's doing well for himself. Adam doesn't spot him till after he's blown away the whole crowd with his first song. Their eyes meet and Tommy sees that familiar smile, a little sweet and a lot wicked.

　

"The next song is dedicated to a friend. Happy birthday, baby." Adam says softly and Tommy blushes bright red, because Adam remembers him, remembers his birthday.

　

When Mike suggests getting closer to the stage so they can hear better, Tommy could kiss him, but he's really hoping to spend his birthday kissing the same man as he did last year. If he has any say in the matter he will, and from the way Adam's looking at him, Tommy doesn't think he'll have to work very hard to get what he wants.

　

The End.


End file.
